Parenting Lessons
by adamolupin
Summary: Part III of the Lessons Trilogy. He looked like a demented Dishwasher Bandit. “If you tell me to ‘stick them up,’ I swear to Merlin I will hex your manhood off and all of this will be for nothing.”


**A/N:**_ This is it folks! Thanks for stopping by! Also mucho thanks to my beta, Katie, who's been reading my crap (and I've written some doozies in my time) since we were 13. Thanks again to Pips, who once again saved my poor American butt. Apparently a pacifier is called a "dummy." Huh. This story pretty much stands alone except for the first line. If you don't mind a bit of confusion you don't _have_ to read Cooking Lessons, but I wouldn't begrudge you if you did.  
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_Thank you once again to those who read and didn't review (you know who you are because I'm one of you too) and those who read and reviewed and those who read and tried to review, couldn't, so PM'd me instead. Nutella for all!  
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"_This_ is your idea of _other things_?" Harry asked incredulously as he gestured toward the door.

Hermione glanced up at him with a perplexed expression while leaning forward to rap the knocker once again. "Of course. What else - ? Oh _honestly_. You thought that - " Her lips tilted down into scolding frown that no less did very little to hide her smirk. "You have a dirty mind, Mr. Potter."

"Maybe so, but it's probably not nearly as dirty as -" he started before being cut off by the mistress of the house opening the door.

"Oh good! Your timing is impeccable," Ginny smiled stepping aside to let Harry and Hermione in.

"Afternoon Ginny!" Hermione chirrped, giving her long time friend a hug.

"Afternoon Ginny," Harry murmured less enthusiastically as he bent to give her a kiss on the cheek.

"He's upstairs," Ginny told them with a mischievous grin. A tiny wail drifted down to them. "Everything you'll ever need is in his room. I've left instructions on the changing table on when to feed him and I've prepared four bottles of milk that are in the ice box. That should be more than enough until we come home tomorrow. Oh bugger, I've got to go," she muttered glancing at her wrist watch. "Have fun," she grinned, giving their cheeks a kiss before scurrying out the door.

She'd been barely gone two seconds before the door opened again and Ginny peeked her head back inside. "Fair warning: he has excellent aim." And then she was gone.

Harry and Hermione looked at each other with trepidation and determination respectively. Hermione dropped her duffle on a nearby davenport, squared her shoulders and marched to the stairs. "Come along Harry. I don't want either Draco or Ginny to skin us alive if we neglect the Malfoy heir for long."

Harry ran a hand through his eternally rumpled hair and dropped his duffle next to Hermione's. "Aye aye cap'n," he replied following her upstairs.

The wailing increased in volume and urgency the closer they got to the nursery. Inside, flailing his little arms and legs in beet red fury lay Alaric Draco Malfoy in his crib. Sensing someone nearby who did not smell like his mother or father, Alaric let out a shriek that had Harry and Hermione wincing in pain.

"Shh, shhh," Hermione murmured picking Alaric up from his crib. At least vaguely recognizing this person, the shrieking stopped but the crying did not. She patted his bottom and noticed a certain squishyness to his nappy. "No wonder Ginny said we had impeccable timing," she said turning to Harry.

Harry blanched. "I was sort of hoping we would build up to this point. I had no idea we were going to jump straight into the pit!"

"Honestly Harry, how do you expect to be a parent if you can't even change a nappy properly," Hermione replied laying Alaric on the changing table. "This is for research, books only tell you so much. I've learned that the best learning tool is a practical application of guides and texts."

Harry didn't look so convinced and eyed the increasingly frustrated baby warily.

"Come along now Harry, don't dilly dally," Hermione said tersely, striding over to him and grabbing his arm. "He's not going to hurt you." She glanced over at him and realized he was probably a lost cause, at least for this changing. "Here, clean his dummy. With hot water please."

He watched Alaric, still extremely uncertain, while Hermione scanned the instructions Ginny had left before folding the parchment up into neat squares and safely tucking it into her pocket. He finally turned and left for the kitchen holding the dummy by its handle. Meanwhile Hermione rummaged through the various drawers under the changing table collecting a clean cloth nappy, a container of baby wipes and a small container of talcum powder.

Just as she was about to release the pins on the cloth, a soft tread alerted her to Harry's return. Hermione turned and groaned softly at the sight of Harry in the doorway. He had returned from the kitchen armed with not only the clean dummy, but also decked out in a "Kiss the Cook" apron, yellow rubber dish gloves, a bottle of liquid dish soap in his other hand, a scrub brush peaking out of the front pocket of the apron and a pink and purple flower dishtowel around his mouth and nose. He looked like a demented Dishwasher Bandit. "If you tell me to 'stick them up,' I swear to Merlin I will hex your manhood off and all of this will be for nothing."

"You'll feel foolish when you're not adequately protected," he warned, his voice muffled by the towel as he made his way over to the table. "And it's 'stick 'em up,'" he added in a mutter that Hermione still heard, but chose to ignore.

"Where'd you get that ridiculous towel anyway?" Hermione asked eyeing the garish design with a barely surpressed grin.

"I found it at the bottom of a drawer," Harry replied, yanking the towel down around his neck, unable to breathe behind the suffocating cloth.

He leaned over Hermione's shoulder curiously, depositing the dummy next to Alaric's head just as she unsnapped the pins and the nappy unfolded in all it hideous glory. "Oh mother of Merlin!" Harry gasped, stepping back in horror, his arm instinctively covering his mouth and nose.

Hermione stepped back as well, closing her eyes and turning her head in a dainty gasp. "Well."

Alaric, freed of his cold, wet and smooshy prison immediately stopped crying and giggled at his babysitters' reactions.

"Harry, we have a job to do -"

"In the name of research, yes, I caught that," he replied, stepping forward and eyeing the mess disdainfully.

Hermione stepped back up to the changing table and made quick efficient work of Alaric's soiled nappy and bum. "Bin this will you?" she said absently handing Harry the mess.

"Now who's a good boy?" Hermione coo'd to the six month old chubby baby, lifting up his legs and splashing some fresh smelling talcum powder on his backside.

Harry returned to find a very stiff and stunned Hermione and a happily gurgling Alaric sucking on his fist. "What - ?" He clapped his hand over his mouth, turning bright red with the effort not to laugh. Alaric had very good aim as was evidenced by Hermione's soaked blouse.

"Harry, be a love and hand me my wand," she said in a very calm, very quiet voice. "And don't you dare say 'I told you so.'"

He did one better and cleaned up the mess for her with a wave of his wand. "I wouldn't dream of it, love."

"Thank you. For both." Slowly, muscle by muscle, she relaxed and resumed changing Alaric. "Next time you change him."

Harry pursed his lips to control the last dregs of laughter before he nodded. "Agreed."

Finished, Harry and Hermione stood side by side looking down at the drowsy baby. He wrapped an arm around her waist and squeezed, the rubber of the gloves _squick_ing loudly in the quiet room.

And they sighed.


End file.
